


you put your arms around me and i'm home

by punkrockbadger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, LGBTQ Character of Color, M/M, Male Character of Color, Misgendering, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockbadger/pseuds/punkrockbadger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Potter and Liam Evans are the worst roommates ever. And then, they realize that that might be because they’re much better at being boyfriends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hung up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not home until there's something on the floor, really." Liam chuckles, before going back to unfolding and hanging up his clothes.
> 
> "I'd be glad to put your clothes on the floor for you." James winks, before loping over to his side of the room, flopping down on the bed.

Liam sighs as he unpacks his clothes, shoving them haphazardly into the small closet at the end of his bed. His roommate, who he hasn't met yet, seems to be a lot more organized than most of the boys he knows from back home, save for Sev, who was always the odd one out.

Everything is color-coded, with labels, and he wonders how this guy (James, he remembers) is going to handle living with someone who was affectionately nicknamed Tornado for much of his childhood (well, basically until yesterday afternoon, which was the last time he saw his parents). Of course, the colors could be entirely a coincidence, and the labels could have been done by someone else, but he certainly wouldn't have stuck with it for long, if, say, Petunia had gone through all this stuff.

The doorknob jiggles and the first thing Liam sees is a messy head of dark hair, attached to a tall, thin boy with a football jersey on. His glasses are sliding down his slightly crooked nose, Liam notes, and the boy pushes them back up, as if only noticing that now, before eagerly bounding over with a hand outstretched. Great. One of  _those_.

"Hey." He grins, grabbing Liam's hand, which has, until now, been hanging at his side. "I'm James. You're Liam. We're roommates."

"I've noticed." Liam manages a small smile in reply, more confused by James' enthusiasm than anything else. "You like things neat, huh?"

"Well, a little." James shrugs, looking more than a little ashamed of himself, and Liam thinks he resembles a turtle a little bit, from the way he ducks his head just slightly while making jokes. "My mum's big on labeling everything and it sorta... caught on." He's got a tendency to gesticulate, Liam notes, and an exaggerated one. His hand clips the edge of a rather fragile looking cup James has on his bedside table, and thankfully for both of them, it doesn't fall.

"I'm not home until there's something on the floor, really." Liam chuckles, before going back to unfolding and hanging up his clothes.

"I'd be glad to put your clothes on the floor for you." James winks, before loping over to his side of the room, flopping down on the bed. 

"I'm sure we're going to get along great!" Liam says, more to himself than anyone else, before shaking his head.

He's lying again.

This is going to be pure hell.

* * *

“Jamesie, darling?” Someone calls out, throwing the door open, and Liam groans, fumbling for the lamp’s on switch. He vaguely remembers the door having opened and closed hours ago, probably James leaving to avoid being caught by whoever thinks it’s an excellent idea to yell this early in the morning.

“Oh. You’d be the roommate, then.” The offender slams the door shut as Liam slowly sits up, plopping down on the end of his bed without asking. “I’m Sirius Black.”

“Liam Evans.” Liam stretches, joints popping loudly. “James left hours ago, I think. I remember something about running.”

“He’s always up too early for his own good, that nerd.” Sirius rolls his eyes, propping his chin up with his palm. “So. What’re you in here for, my dear tomato headed scallywag?”

“Biochemistry.” Liam practically groans the word out, because that is the only way biochemistry is meant to be said—with great trepidation and earth-shaking resentment. “You?”

“Not a single idea.” Sirius grins cheekily. “Law, maybe? Astronomy?”

“With a name like Sirius, you’d do fine with stars.” Liam grumbles, still sleepy, and doesn’t catch the way Sirius’ demeanor shifts, like Liam has just given him the greatest gift ever. “What?”

“You and Remus are going to love each other.” Sirius pronounces, before dragging Liam out of bed. “Breakfast ends at ten, you know.”

“What time is it?” Liam pulls on a flannel shirt that he found lying in the middle of the room, and he’s not quite sure if it’s his or James’, but it’ll do for now.

“Nine fifty-nine.” Sirius winks before shutting the door hard behind him.

“Amazing.”

* * *

“The three tenets of cell theory—all living organisms are composed of one or more cells. Cells are the basic units of structure and function in an organism. Cells come only—“ Petunia had told Liam for years that his habit of studying while showering would get him in trouble some day, but he never assumed it would mean this. Of course, Liam found himself bumping into something warm mid-sentence, and, when he looked up, he realized this warm something was James Potter’s very shirtless chest.

And it wasn’t half bad, if Liam was being honest.

“Cells come only from the reproduction of existing cells, right?” James grins, entirely oblivious to the fact that Liam’s face is currently pressed up against his collarbone. “Sweet. So ready for that test tomorrow. Awesome.”

“I’m so, so, **_so_** sorry.” Liam stumbles back, waving his hands in front of his face, and almost drops his towel, which is very, very badly tied around his waist. “Literally. I didn’t know you were going to be _right there_ and that was really badly timed on my part and—“

“Hey, Evans?” James chuckles. “Chill out. I’m not going to freak out on you.”

“If you say so.” Liam rummages through his drawer for some underwear, motioning to James to turn around as he drops the towel, hurriedly tugging them on. “Don’t you dare turn around until I say you can.”

“Sure, sure.” Liam can practically hear the smirk in James’ voice and he wants to throttle him. Or make out with him. He’s really not that sure, but indecision sounds a little better for their roommate relationship than either of the other choices. “Want me to sexily recite the cell theory back at you again, or are we good at that part of the chapter?”

“Sexily?” Liam snorts. “You?”

“Incredibly so.” James laughs, shaking his head, before sitting down hard on his bed the minute Liam gives him the signal to turn around again. “Well, when a cell loves another cell…”

* * *

“You know, other roommates don’t spend as much time together as we do.” James says, one afternoon, when they’re sitting together at the cafeteria. His other friends have gone off somewhere, claiming ridiculously transparent excuses. Liam sometimes thinks that they like leaving James alone with him, as if they’ll explode all over each other one day and it’ll be one of the jokes those boys laugh about from dawn until dusk.

“You’re looking to change that?” Liam looks up from his chemistry textbook, which he’s honestly not been paying a single bit of attention to for nearly an hour now.

“Nah. I like it.” James grins, scratching the back of his head. “You’re more than worth my time, you know?”

“Does that mean that you’d leave me alone if I got more annoying?” Liam chucks a fork across the table, and James catches it neatly between his thumb and forefinger. “Nicely done, Potter.”

“You know me.” James shakes his head, chuckling, and Liam can see himself in the glare off James’ glasses, ruffled and happy in a way he hasn’t seen himself in ages. “Always making the big saves.”

Liam snorts up half a glass of chocolate milk then, and James takes pictures.

* * *

“Hey, Liam, hi, what’s up?” James seems especially excited this morning, and Liam is slowly growing used to waking up with his roommate’s face entirely too close to his own. Of course, today is different, as it unfortunately often is, and James Potter Has A Plan.

Liam’s usual strategy, when James Potter Has A Plan, is to get the hell out of dodge, but he’s currently being cornered by his gleeful baby of a roommate. James’ hair is even more disorganized than usual, sticking up at angles Liam didn’t even know were possible, and his tanned skin catches the morning sunlight and turns it into something greater than it ever thought it could be.

You know you’re fucked when you get poetic about your roommate’s _skin_.

“Hey, James.” Liam sits up, running a hand through his own hair, and sighs. “What’s on your mind this time?”

“You.” James says it as if it’s nothing, but Liam can tell by the look in his eyes that it meant a lot more than that. “You know, among other things. I think about a lot of things. All the time. I promise.”

“Say that again.” Liam forces the words out, nervous as all get out, and a more genuine smile spreads across James’ face, a quick flash of white, straight teeth sending him reeling. “The part where you think about me.”

“All the time.” James says, hazel eyes alight. He has nice eyelashes, Liam muses. Very nice eyelashes. “But in a not creepy way! I promise!”

“I believe you.” Liam says, cautiously leaning forward to rest his forehead against James’. James smiles, practically radiating warmth, and Liam feels like this is where things should be. “You’re the only person I know who’s worse at lying than me.”

“Is that a _compliment_?” James croaks, sounding so offended and pleased at the same time that Liam has to laugh, and when Liam leans forward to kiss him, he isn’t disappointed.


	2. shook up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well?” James sets the box down on the bedraggled couch they’ve been left, fishing out the photo from graduation a few weeks ago. Liam is smiling and James has an arm around Liam’s shoulders, head thrown back in a laugh as he keeps him close. Remus and Peter are in the background, trying to pose as ridiculously as possible to wreck the picture, but nothing could. He sets it down on the rickety table beside the couch, smiling as he admires its placement. “Now it’s home.”
> 
> “Yeah.” Liam echoes, wiping the frame clean with his sleeve. “It’s home.”

“What’re you trying, Liam?” James chuckles as he packages his side of their room up. All the little rainbow boxes that Liam had once scoffed at stack up nicely, and James, although he has more stuff, has fit all his things in three boxes, compared to Liam’s six.

Liam, who started packing two days ago as per Remus’ recommendation, is lying on the rock like mattress, only now realizing how much of a savior mattress pads have been for the last four years, is relegated to watching his boyfriend work. A fine job, he reasons, considering watching James move is better than most television shows.

“Just lying here, all handsome and whatnot, while my boyfriend pretends that his labelmaker is more interesting than me.” Liam laughs, running a hand through hair that’s getting far too long for his liking, and stretches his arms out wide, as if he can gather the little world they have spent years building in his arms.

Perhaps he will tuck it away in a corner of his heart, where the memories they have made can play on repeat forever. He hums his assent, not realizing James has taped up the last box and joined him until he’s pulled out of his thoughts by James’ lips against his neck.

“Hey there, handsome.” James whispers, obviously trying to sound somewhat seductive, and Liam bursts into laughter. “What, am I really that bad?”

“Horrible.” Liam exclaims, rolling onto his side to face James. “It’s a miracle I put up with you.”

“Mm.” James scoots down the bed until he can easily bury his face in Liam’s shoulder, and all Liam can think of is how far James’ feet must be sticking off the bed. “You smell good.”

“I’m wearing your sweater, jackass.” Liam playfully nudges James’ shoulder. “You’re smelling yourself.”

“I smell wonderful, then.” James amends, yawning theatrically. “Siri and Remus are going to be here in about…” He pauses to check his watch. “Half an hour. Any idea what we might do until then?”

“None at all, Mr. Potter.” Liam grins wickedly. “Or perhaps one.”

“Only one, future Other Mr. Potter?” James raises an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

“You can move the boxes to the car with Remus and Sirius, and I’ll take a nap.” Liam grins. “Sounds fair?”

* * *

“Here it is, babe. Our place.” James has one of the lighter boxes held under his arm, as he expertly fishes the key out of his jeans pocket with his free hand. “Catch.”

Liam fumbles it, but somehow manages to retrieve it before James is any the wiser, unlocking the door to their new apartment. There’s nothing but a couch, a few nearly broken tables and a bed, and maybe that’s for the best, considering how much they’ve brought with them. He had never thought finishing college and moving into their own place would be such a hassle, but here they are, with enough wall space to hang their degrees up next to each other (and maybe a few of James’ Steven Gerrard posters, if he doesn’t complain too much about the paint colors Liam chose).

“Well?” James sets the box down on the bedraggled couch they’ve been left, fishing out the photo from graduation a few weeks ago. Liam is smiling and James has an arm around Liam’s shoulders, head thrown back in a laugh as he keeps him close. Remus and Peter are in the background, trying to pose as ridiculously as possible to wreck the picture, but nothing could. He sets it down on the rickety table beside the couch, smiling as he admires its placement. “Now it’s home.”

“Yeah.” Liam echoes, wiping the frame clean with his sleeve. “It’s home.”

* * *

“Are you boys all settled in, then?” Mrs. Potter, who insists that Liam call her Mom, kisses them both on the cheek when they tumble into the Potter home, half an hour early for dinner. “You sure you don’t need me to come over? Fix things up?”

“We’re _fine_ , Mom.” James groans, throwing up his hands in defeat. “You’ve made a halfway decent cooker and cleaner out of me and Liam’s not half bad at the rest.”

“If you think I’m letting my boys go hungry because you’re too stubborn to ask your poor mother for help, you’re wrong.” Mrs. Potter arguing with her son has always been a hilarious sight, as Mrs. Potter hardly comes up to her utterly terrified son’s armpit. James looks like a deer in the headlights, halfway between begging forgiveness and fighting her every word, and Liam bites his lip to keep from laughing. “You’ve always had that problem. You and your father both. Ridiculous, these men. What did we ever do wrong, Liam?”

“I think it’s a matter of what I did right, maybe.” Liam shrugs, coaxing a genuine smile out of Mrs. Potter, and ducks his head in embarrassment. He hardly realizes he’s just imitated his boyfriend until Mrs. Potter’s laugh hits him square in the face, so like her son’s.

“You’re both absolutely precious! I’m so proud!” And, with another one of mercurial mood shifts that Mrs. Potter is famous for, she’s squished them both into a hug. Liam smiles, mind wandering back to parents who refuse to call him anything but Lily and a girl, and is snapped out of his thoughts by James loudly claiming that he will kiss Liam right here, right now, if his mother does not let go already.

“Look at him.” Mrs. Potter shakes her head in mock sadness. “Hardly respects his own mother.”

“There’s a good man under all of that bad acting, Mrs. Potter.” Liam chuckles as James comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Liam’s waist as he rests his head on his shoulder. “It’s just really, _really_ bad acting.”

* * *

“What would you say about getting married?” James asks, in the middle of the third Facial Hair Fight of the year. It’s only March and Liam’s got a decent beard this time, although James has him beat, like usual. “Right now.”

“Right now?” Liam asks, raising an eyebrow. James nods eagerly, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Make a good enough case and I’ll _consider_ it.”

“First, there’s the scandal factor. Your parents’ll be outraged that you’re marrying little old me instead of some good, white Christian boy who they’ve known for years. My parents’ll be outraged that I married you without telling them first, but they’ll come around in time for Sunday dinner. Second, if we time it right, Sirius might cry.” James counts the points off on his fingers, folding them down one by one. “Third, I love you and you love me. And I’d prefer to get you legally obligated to stay with me forever as soon as possible. You know, to prevent the eventual realization that you’re absolutely stunning and I sort everything in our pantry by food type and expiration date.”

“God knows my parents would be terrified by the thought of their delicate little baby marrying you.” James laughs at the thought of Liam’s parents having any say in this matter, stretching out over the couch until his head is in Liam’s lap. “Look at you, charming your way into my pants.”

“Utterly terrifying, look at me.” James rolls his eyes. “But then again, I could hand out ice cream to children and your father would be convinced I was dangerous.”

“You stole my heart, didn’t you?” Liam teases, ruffling James’ hair. “Maybe you are a little dangerous.”

“Maybe.” James grins. “Maybe.”

* * *

They end up telling both of their families anyway, as Mr. Potter is incredible at picking Liam apart over the phone, and the Evanses are notified that their son’s gotten married with a simple postcard in the mail, in which Liam takes extra care to sign his name Liam Potter.

Alright, so he underlined it a couple times for effect, so much that James nearly fell off the couch laughing, but it was for the best.

James finds rings on the Internet and Liam shrugs his way through a good half of them, and they while away their summer break laughing about the honeymoon they’ll take eventually, maybe, and learning to cook something besides Indian food that makes Liam’s throat burn.

“Suffer in silence, love.” James says, grinning, as he leans over the stove. “I made my way through an entire Christmas dinner at your house without a single word and that’s enough for a lifetime of favors.”

“Please, you ate salad and potatoes because you forgot to tell my parents that you’re vegetarian.” Liam rolls his eyes. James turns back to him, leaving the stove unattended for a moment, and strikes a rather impressive figure in his pink, frilly Kiss The Cook apron. He points the spatula in Liam’s direction, daring him to continue. “Right, fine, maybe _I_ forgot to tell my parents.”

“Glad to see things are settled then.” James winks before going back to his cooking, and Liam goes back to reading the textbooks he’s been assigned for the next semester.

Come the end of September, James would be absorbed in medical school and Liam in his graduate studies, but they’d always find time for each other, somehow, between all the chaos of school and friends and family.

“We should really get our names changed on the door.” James says, shrugging. “Still says James Potter and Liam Evans. Maybe just cut it down to James and Liam Potter?”

“Or just put the great big sign your parents got us over the door. The Potters. It’s what we are, isn’t it?” Liam says, and James smiles.

“You’re always right, aren’t you?”

“Obviously.”


	3. lovestruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam Evans Potter wants James Potter’s babies.
> 
> An embarrassing thought, but not the worst one he’s had recently, so he’ll go with it.

Liam steadies himself, because this is really only fair.

He brought up getting together, James brought up marriage, so, by the rotation schedule, the ball is in his court on this one. And it’s a ball he wants to throw back, because this is something he’s always wanted. This is something they’ve both always wanted, and seeing James joke around with his cousins’ kids this last weekend really brought it into focus.

Liam Evans Potter wants James Potter’s babies.

An embarrassing thought, but not the _worst_ one he’s had recently, so he’ll go with it.

“James?” He asks, turning over to face the spot in the bed where James would usually be, but finds nothing but a pile of rumpled sheets. “James?”

He hears a loud shout from the bathroom, obviously meant to sound like a sentence, and James stumbles out, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He settles slightly when he realizes that Liam is safe, and goes back to brushing his teeth.

“What do you say about… us becoming parents? Sometime?” Liam twiddles his fingers, as he often does when nervous, and doesn’t anticipate James tackling him. “Don’t you dare kiss me with toothpaste all over your face.”

James rolls his eyes before getting off the bed, making odd growling noises as he trudges back to the bathroom, but he’s back in no time, bounding onto the bed in search of more cuddles.

“I think”, he begins, “that you will be an excellent father. And I’ll be better than that, obviously, so we’ll end up with a lucky kid.”

“We could… have our kid. It’s only been a year since… y’know.” Liam shrugs. “We talked about it then and…”

“This is all on you, mate.” James shrugs. “There are ads in the paper for this sort of thing all the time. Let us put our baby in your parts and whatnot. That sounds splendid. Not the parts part. _Especially_ not the someone else’s parts part. I love you. You get what I’m going for.”

“I don’t think we’re going to use those exact words, but something similar, maybe.” Liam shrugs. “Something nicer? Maybe a please or two?”

“Please let us please put our baby in your parts, please?” James sticks his tongue out and, as always, misjudges how fast Liam is at smacking him across the face with the pile of pillows behind him.

* * *

“Well, that’s done.” Liam shrugs as they leave the fertility clinic. It’s late October, Halloween to be exact, and he’s got approximately too many layers of clothes on in the interest of staying somewhere close to warm. “Good life experience.”

“Says the one of us who didn’t have to jack off into a plastic cup.” James grumbles, elbowing Liam in the stomach.

“For the good of the world, honey.” Liam rolls his eyes. He’s practically signed on to raise two children, if this works out alright, but he’s got a good feeling about this. This is their day, their hour, and their minute, and hopefully, eighteen years and approximately nine months from now, they’ll kick some nerd out into the world. “God knows what we’d do without a James Potter Junior to cause significant damage to public property, once you’ve gone all old and gray.”

“That’s assuming I go old and gray in the first place, love.” James runs a hand through his hair. “Which is practically evil of you to imply in the first place.”

“Also implying we have a James Potter Junior, which may not happen either.” Liam reaches out for James’ fingers, which are practically icicles due to his refusal to wear gloves that morning, and swings their hands back and forth. “Not that we’re naming the kid James Potter Junior if they’re a boy. That would be pretty gross.”

“Agreed.” James pulls a face. “I mean, you’d yell James and we’d both show up. That’d be a problem. What if you were mad at just me? Or just him?”

“We’ll find something.” Liam shrugs. “Or maybe we’ll know when we see them.”

“Liam Potter not obsessively planning out his child’s future before they’re even born?” James puts on his best expression of mock horror. “It’s the Twilight Zone and I am dead.”

“If you don’t stop making fun of me for that one time, I’m going to start a very undignified leaf fight in the middle of the road, and give those poor folks reason to question whether we should be parents or not.” Liam raises and eyebrow and James frowns.

“We have to stop having leaf fights if they give us a baby? Darn, I’m rethinking this parenting thing.” James looks sincerely upset, so Liam drops his hand and runs ahead, daring James to follow. He doesn’t have to wait long for James to catch up, never really does, and he doesn’t have to look back even once to know he’s hot on his trail.

* * *

“Hi.” The person at the door says, looking Liam over carefully. “I’m Mary MacDonald—I saw your ad?”

“I’m Liam Potter.” He says, holding his hand out to shake, and it’s taken very carefully. He thinks he’ll be friends with her. He’s always had a good sense for that. “My husband’s out, but you’re free to come in and talk with me, if you’d like.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Mary smiles, and steps in, looking around as Liam shuts the door behind her.

“Quick question, though.” Mary turns back to him, confused, and Liam clears his throat before continuing. “How do you feel about Indian food?”

“Slightly terrified, to be honest.” She blushes slightly, and Liam grins, practically bouncing on his feet.

“Welcome to the family, then, because that’s me too.”

“Are you sure?” She asks nervously. “What if your husband doesn’t think I’m a good fit or…”

“James?” Liam snorts. “He’ll be fine.”

“Sounds like you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” Mary chuckles. “What I wouldn’t give to have a boy like that.”

“You’ll be rethinking that once you meet him, I think.” Liam laughs.

“Really?” Mary raises an eyebrow. “No one bets against Mary MacDonald.”

As it turns out, Liam Potter does, and regularly, and Liam Potter has never lost a bet in his life.

* * *

Eight and a half months later, as July draws to a close, Harry James Potter comes screaming into the world amidst a whole lot of change.

James, who lost the Rock, Paper, Scissors match and ended up with Dad rather than Daddy, is stuck working mildly ridiculous hours in Specialty Training, and Liam, who never loses, has taken a few weeks off work to get Harry the attention he needs. The guest room has rapidly turned into a bright yellow nursery over the last two weeks, and Sirius, unfortunately, has been relegated to the couch for now.

But everything’s on hold, for a second, as Harry takes his first few breaths and learns his way around his fathers’ voices.

“You’re gonna like it here, kid.” James mumbles sleepily, resting his head on Liam’s shoulder as Liam rocks Harry back and forth. “S’nice. Warm. And Daddy Liam smells good.”

“Especially when I’ve got your dad’s sweaters on, apparently.” James blinks twice before realizing that’s actually true, and shakes his head.

“I can never win at this, can I?” James groans, and Harry echoes the noise, although a little softer.

“I’ve got two pinkies for a reason, silly. One to wrap you around, and one to wrap him around. Perfect, don’t you think?” Liam smiles as Harry yawns, slowly opening up green eyes exactly like his own.

“We always land on our feet.” James mutters, planting a kiss on Liam’s shoulder before presumably falling asleep, and Liam leans down to kiss Harry’s forehead.

“I can’t promise you something perfect, Harry, but we’ll do our best.” Harry’s mouth opens and closes, as if he’s replying, even though Liam knows from nearly a year of James more or less memorizing newborn care books that it’s just reflex. “We’re going to be the best family there ever was.”

Harry gurgles, and Liam wipes the spit bubbles away with a corner of his sleeve.

"Good god, I hope you don't drool in your sleep. One of those is enough."


End file.
